


It's over

by temarcia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Feelings, Heist, Hostage Situations, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sad, Scriddler, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, deathtraps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temarcia/pseuds/temarcia
Summary: Riddler takes over the Archeological Museum. What looks like a typical heist, turns out to be far more complicated.





	It's over

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story is sad - please, don't read if you're dealing with depression.

"It's over, Batman!"

Riddler's angry hiss comes from above, from where the man is standing – up on the platform of the gold-coated statue of Nike. His hand, just like the Greek Goddess', is up in the air, showing the small device he is holding.

"You know what it is, don't you?" He asks, his eyes locked on Batman, not even darting to the thing in his hand. "It's a dead man's switch. One wrong move and I’ll let go of it, and the whole museum goes boom!"

The two of them stare each other down in this tense moment of silence.

“I don't believe you,” The Dark Knight states bluntly, his voice lacking fear or anger, or any emotion at all. “You won't blow up the building, not while you're inside. You won't risk your own life like that, Edward.”

“Don't make me prove you wrong!” The Riddler shouts and it sounds more desperate than threatening, however, it seems to make Batman give up on whatever he was planning. “I told you, it IS over! You can't attack me! You can't jump at me, hit me, hurt me like you always do! Not if you want me to keep my fingers on this little baby.” His grip on the switch tightens. “I believe you understand who's in control here, Detective. Now,” he finally orders, “get into my deathtrap!”

The contraption is based on an Egyptian sarcophagus, one of the rarest items in this museum, but there are long, metal spikes sticking out of it – which makes the trap look more like the infamous Iron maiden mixed with the 'Death by hundred swords' magic trick.

Batman looks at the device as if judging his chances, then, he takes a step towards it and Riddler can't see his face anymore.

“Pretty, isn't it? But let me explain how it works first. You step inside, the sarcophagus closes. I ask you a riddle, you answer. Easy!” The usual carefree note returns to his voice and the hand with the switch gets a bit lower. “For every right answer, I’ll tell you the location of one of my hostages, and then ask you the next riddle until you may have solved all thirty-four. But for every wrong answer...,” he makes a dramatic pause to enjoy the tension. “...one of those thirty-four spikes goes inside the sarcophagus, piercing through your armor and your body like a knife through a heart. Oh, and before you ask – staying silent counts as wrong answer.”

Batman doesn't look at him but Riddler forces himself to smirk anyway. It is over for the man in the batsuit, even if the game didn't start yet.

“Shall we begin?”

-#-

Sometimes it felt like it was always raining in Gotham, and it was raining tonight as well. Jonathan sat alone in the bedroom, in complete darkness. He could have been listening to the raindrops drumming at his window, if not for the sounds of furniture getting trashed, the smashing of tableware and furious growls coming from the other side of the locked door.

Edward was not taking this well, as predicted but honestly, Jonathan didn't care.

He was tired, so tired of letting this man insult him over and over again. Tired of pointless arguments over a book taken out and not put back into the right spot on a shelf. Tired of constant mood-swings, expectations, childish demands and games. And so damn tired of Edward never taking the blame. The man was beyond help – he wouldn't change, he didn't want to change.

Jonathan had been too optimistic, allowing himself to think that he could get used to it all in time. But time only made things worse. It was almost three years now, thirty-four months or so, and he could barely stand staying with Edward in the same room for five minutes without getting violent.

Why should he bear with it any longer, putting someone else's needs before his own when the other person wouldn't do the same?

Why had he ever thought it was worth a shot?

It had been a mistake – but tonight he finally had the chance to correct it.

The side of his face still hurt from where Edward had hit him after hearing “It's over.” but, judging by the sound of it, it was the dining room that suffered the most. It didn't matter, his precious chemicals were safe, locked down in the basement while Jonathan's private notes and formulas were here – in the bedside cabinet. All that was left now, was waiting 'till the tantrum died down and they could talk about it like normal people which they were certainly not.

The sudden silence caught Jonathan's attention. Was it over already? Did Edward run out of steam so soon?

He listened in, not really concerned, if anything, rather curious. The sound of a door being slammed reached his ears. And after that, there was only the rain outside of his window.

“He's gone,” Jonathan thought and he felt relieved.

Whatever it was that they had had in the past, it had died at some point and now it was finally over.

-#-

Now, it is Batman facing the deathtrap.

The museum is so quiet that when the Dark Knight takes a step toward the sarcophagus, the sound of his boots echoes through the exhibition hall. And Riddler almost shivers in anticipation. This is the night he will have the Bat killed and all of his struggles will finally be over!

His racing thoughts come to a halt as the blasted detective freezes in place.

Something is wrong!

The Bat presses one hand to his cowl, right where his ear would be. Is he receiving a com-call? Riddler holds his breath, the switch in his hand suddenly feels heavy and the panic in his guts raises.

In a split second, the Bat is on the platform with him and the Goddess. Riddler jumps back, collides with the sculpture, and Nike falls down – breaking into pieces. The noise is as loud as thunder. Or, perhaps, a bomb?

“So, this is how it ends,” Edward thinks, almost wishing to still be around when Jonathan will read about the explosion at the Archeological Museum in the newspaper the very next day. The only two victims – the Batman and the Riddler. Oh, he could already see the headlines! But then again, Jon rarely bothers to follow the news – that ignorant asshole!

Before the Dark Knight can catch his hand, Edward squeezes his eyes and releases the switch.

Then – nothing.

The explosion that should have destroyed the museum doesn't happen, there is only Batman and that terrible silence.

“Game over,” the man in the batsuit says, looking down on Riddler who does not understand it. “You told me that there were thirty-four hostages, which means Robin and Batgirl already found them all.”

Edward stares back at him blankly, Bat's words fly through his head, their meaning not fully registering. His hand is still clutching on the dead man's switch, pushing and releasing the button mechanically.

Finally, he sinks to his knees, finding the device in his hand utterly useless.

“I have a disruptor on me,” Batman offers the unnecessary explanation. “All I had to do was getting close to you and jamming the signal.”

The detective kneels beside him for a short moment, swiftly snatching the switch from between his numb fingers. Edward can't even bring himself to protest. His victory, his epic death scene, his...

All is lost.

“It's over,” Batman confirms his worst speculations.

And despite how he feels, Riddler lets out a laugh.

“Funny, I'm hearing that one a lot lately.”

“Then maybe try getting over it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate every little comment!


End file.
